Swords and shields of Loyalty
by Zho500
Summary: 300 hundred years after Eirika and Ephriam defeated the demon king, The advisor to King Singal of Renais has accused his most trusted group of knights of being in league with the rebellion. To prove their innocence, Janus and his team, mostly of his own children and a few that none of the others wanted must prove their innocence before anything else bad happens, but can they?
1. Chapter 1

Two paladins and a cavalier sigh in relief as they ride to the castle stables. They dismount just outside and lead the horses to their stalls for the waiting stable hands to tend. They then head off to the barracks, exhausted from their missions, and are met at the door by another cavalier, only a year younger that the one with them.

"Ah, Guran, son, what are you doing up this late?" the eldest knight, Janus, a Paladin well in his forties, asks him.

"Waiting for you and Jarod, Father. Eya and Thyre have not yet returned from their mission," Guran explains, light brown hair ruffled by the wind.

"I'm sure they aren't, they had a far more dangerous mission than a simple patrol as we did."

"What is it?" he asks softly, concerned.

"I can't say too much, but it's infiltration," Janus explains, careful to make sure no one else can hear.

"I see. Your bed is ready for you, Father."

"Good lad. Men, you're dismissed. Rest up for your patrol in the morning."

They all nod and leave for their rooms, utterly exhausted.

Janus senses someone watching and turns to look, but sees no one there. He shrugs and heads to his own room, removes his armor and lays on his bed, thinking of the days when he was a young knight of Renais. Soon he was soon sleeping fitfully, unconsciously sensing danger.

Janus twitches slightly as he hears something, no, someone, enter his room, sword drawn. He slowly edged his hand down to his own sword, half asleep.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Father," Jarod warns nervously.

Janus starts and sits up-he'd never heard his eldest nervous like that. Looking around, he sees he's surrounded by the lord's soldiers. "What's going on here?" he asks, seeing Jarod and Tavier restrained behind them, and Guran terrified.

"Our lord wishes to speak to you traitors," one of the soldiers snarls, hate in his eyes.

"Traitors? What do you mean?" he asks, then stiffens as one pressed a spear to his back.

"Quiet, save your speaking for our lord," the spear's owner growls sternly.

"Fine." He drops his sword and allows them to lead him away with the rest of his team, except the four still out on their mission.

Eya sighs as she looks at the swordsman polishing his sword. They'd all ready infiltrated the rebels and were getting their weapons ready for a raid. "What is it, Eya?" the swordsman asks softly.

"Something doesn't feel right back at home, Thyre."

"What do you mean?"

"Something's happened to the rest of our team, I just don't know what."

"Hmm, it's hard to say, sis. Anything could have happened. It could be something minor, for all we know," Thyre soothes with a shrug.

"It's nothing small, bro. I can tell that much," she murmurs, eyes glazed. "Hmm, whatever." One of their scouts comes running, a girl in her twenties.

"We have two major problems," she pants breathlessly, exhausted.

Eya gives her her canteen. "Catch your breath, then make your report."

The girl obeys. "One, we've been discovered by the rebels who are closing in around us. Two, we've all been proclaimed traitors and have been summoned back to the castle to face the consequences of out betrayal to our lord," she explains when she can breathe again.

"What?!" Thyre roars, furious.

"Thyre, calm down!" Eya says sternly. "She is only giving us the message. She is not the one who has proclaimed us traitors," she adds in a slightly gentler tone.

"I... I... fine," he growls in annoyance.

"Good. First off, we deal with the bigger problem at hand. That would be the rebels closing in arond us right now."

"Fine. Let me at them," Thyre grins eagerly.

"Stand down, Thyre," she retorts, annoyed.

"What! How else are we supposed to get away from them?"

"With our brains," she rolls her eyes.

"Well then, what plan do you have?"

She nods nearby to the rocks. "Not even the rebels will go there, for some reason."

"They say an evil mage lives there and kills anyone who comes onto his property," the scout warns, scared.

Thyre softens slightly. "Don't worry, Kaylee. No mage can ever bring me down."

"Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?" a mercenary Janus had recruited, name of Findan, puts in.

"What? Mages don't bother me much."

"Most might not, but he might be a sage, not a mage. Or worse, a sorcerer."

"Hmph. Whatever. I can take whatever they throw at me."

"Thyre, quit." Eya said, lightly smacking him on the back of his head. She looks at Findan, voice perfectly calm. "Would you rather see us killed by rebels? Is that what you want?"

"No," he sighs. "Though I'd prefer to know the identity of those I'm in danger from."

"I understand. But extreme circumstances lead to extreme measures."

"Very true. One straight charge and split at the rocks."

"No; stay together. That way if we run into the guy, we can fight him together."

"Very well."

"I agree with you. For once," Thyre agrees softly.

"Kylee, Finden, Thyre, take charging positions beside me." Eya orders quietly, taking her place, bow at the ready. They do. "One the count of four. One."

"Two," Thyre murmurs.

"Three," Kaylee whispers.

"Four," Findan finishes.

"Charge!" Eya shouts. They all tcharge the weakest section of the rebels ranks together.

The rebels scatter out of the way, surprised by the charge. Thyre and Findan fell anyone who gets in their way until they make it to the rocks, where their pursuers stop chasing them.

The rebel leader snorts. "Cowards."

"What do we do now? We all know what lies in there." from his second.

"We leave them to him," the leader shrugs, turning to walk away. "And march on the castle."

"Very well." He walks away with him, not seeing the broken arrow on the ground at the entrance to the rocks.


	2. Chapter 2

Janus calmly let the guards lead them to the throne room. He smiled reassuringly at Guran, his youngest. "I'm sure this is just all a misunderstanding, son."

"Wh-What if it's not. What if he truly believes that we're traitors?" Guran asks fearfully.

"If I know my old friend, he will listen to reason and give us a fair trial."

"I hope so," Jarod murmurs softly as they enter the throne room.

"Hush now." Janus steps up to the throne first.

"We've brought them, sir. Each one to be tried for the crime of treachery," explains the guard, his spear still at Janus's back.

The king just stares at him in disbelief. "Janus, you would betray me?".

"I have not. I don't know what lies you've heard, who's told you them, or why. But I assure you, on my honor, and on the vow we made in our younger days, that none of us have betrayed you. My lord, my king, and my friend."

"Silence!" the adviser snarls. "The only lies being told are those out of your mouth, traitor."

Janus calmly looks at him. "I am not a traitor. If you're the one making those charges, then you've either got the wrong one, or are the traitor yourself," he returns softly, voice betraying nothing.

The adviser strikes him across the face. "How dare you address me as such, peasant! You are nothing but a traitor, and should meet a traitors death peasant scum.

"You keep calling me a traitor, but like the fool you are, you've failed to show any such proof of it.

"Tylon, bring it here." The adviser motions to a young mage, who seems very reluctant.

The mage brings up a spear with the rebellion alliance symbol on it. The adviser takes it and presents it to the king. "This was found in the accused's room, under a floorboard beneath his bed."

The king takes it and inspects it, instantly suspicious. "Take him to my private chamber. I will speak with him alone," he orders sternly. The guards bow and do, making sure Janus is chained securely.

Once they're in the privacy of the room and the king has made sure no one's listening, he turns to Janus. "I know this doesn't belong to you. Tylon would have told me soon as they found it, if it did. But, in order to keep you and your kin safe, until the time is right to say you are innocent, I have no choice. You and your brigade will be kept in the dungeon until I'm able to make you... disappear, shall we say."

Janus nods. "No disagreement there."

"Your brigade will have to split up afterward, to minimize the chances of every one of you being hunted down. You will understand very soon that it is him against the rebellion, not me."

"Very well."

"Now to go out and pass sentence..." he mutters softly.

Janus nods. "I understand."

He calls the guards in and goes back out. "I am, ready to pass sentence." He says, voice loud enough to silence the entire room.

"I have decided that they are guilty. Place them in the dungeon until I decide a suitable punishment for each one, as each one will be different than the other. Only what I say will happen to them; make sure no one else tries to fool you into thinking otherwise," he adds, glaring directly at his adviser.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." He backs away, knowing that look all too well.

The guards nod and drag them down to the dungeon.

"Everyone okay?" Eya pants when they stop to catch their breath near sunset.

The others just nod, since she was the first to get her breath back.

She looks at Thyre. "You okay, bro?" she asks, seeing he's having a hard time catching his breath.

He straightens up. "I'm fine. It's just been a while since I've run like that."

Kylee smiles at him. "They didn't follow us."

"Indeed they didn't. Now to find a place to set up camp."

"Aye, and for that, we will have to split up," Findan adds firmly.

Eya frowns. "I don't like that idea. Especially with the rumors of this place."

Thyre sighs. "How about we stay in hearing range of each other."

"That'd be a bit hard considering where we are," Findan warns, eyes darting around nervously.

"Ba, we'll be fine."

Eya sighs. "Must you be so contrary, brother?"

"Only with your group, sister dearest," he teases.

She sighs. "Still, I think it's best if we find a place to stay and hide together instead of splitting up."

"How about there?" Findan asks, pointing to some rocks that overlay each other to make something very similar to a large, one-room cave.

"That'll do. Thank you, Findan."

"No problem. No fires, though. We don't want to attract whoever lives here to our position."

"Sounds reasonable." Eya sees Thyre sitting down, eyes closed, leaning against one of the walls of the cave. "Brother?" she queries, worried.

"Hmm? Sorry, I'm just tired is all." He pokes an eye open to look at her.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"You're not trying to hide anything from me, are you?"

"No, sis," he grumbles, meeting her eyes.

"Very well. Get some rest. Findan will take first watch. Thyre, you'll take last."

"Fine by me," both agree, and Findan settles into his watch while the others go to bed.

Findan looks over all of them. 'How long will it take him to find us and end us?' he thinks. 'Though I sense, one may not be with with us long enough to find out if that one doesn't let on about their wound.'

After several hours he hears something nearby, and wakes the other three.

"Hmm... What is it?" Eya mumbles sleepily.

"Yeah, I highly doubt it's time for our watches," Thyre yawns.

"Hush, all of you; someone's near."

All three get quiet at that, and Thyre's hand slowly slides down to his sword hilt. Kaylee shakes her head at him and points to the woods. "That way," she murmurs softly.

He turns in that direction, hand still on his sword.

"D-Don't," she whispers, slowly, silently sitting down, since their backs are to her.

"What do you mean, don't?"

"S-Something's... n-not... right..."

He sighs in frustration, then senses the aura of someone or something very powerful nearby, and looks around warily. "Who is it, Kaylee?"

"S-Some.. s-someone... y-you c-can't... c-can't f-fight with... with w-weapons..." she whispers nervously, lying down carefully.

"Then what are we going to do?"

"I-I-I d-don't kn-know..." she whimpers, trembling.

"Are you all right?" Findan asks worriedly.

She doesn't answer, just curls up into a ball, crying.

"Kaylee? Kaylee!" Thyre whispers, dropping his weapons and running to her side, concern etched on his face as he pulls her close. "Kaylee, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"D-Don't... t-touch... s-s-side..." she whimpers, unable to uncurl from the pain.

"Easy, Kaylee, easy. Let me see it."'

She whimpers, obeying, as the owner of that aura draws closer. Thyre ignores it, stunned at the depth of the wound. "Kaylee..." he whispers.

She shudders in pain. "Sorry didn't tell. Wasn't... time..."

"Even when we made camp?"

"Too... tired. And... worried... for you. "

"I was just tired, is all, Kaylee. Just tired. Why worry about me?"

"C-Cause I care for you."

Just then a black-haired man appears right next to Thyre. "Your group looks like It's had a rough time."

"We have. Who are you?" Thyre asks warily, shielding Kaylee as best he can in that position.

"I am Rommel, student of Rolan. She's in bad shape."

"Give us one reason to trust you."

"Because if you don't, she doesn't have a chance."

They exchange glances. "Very well," Eya agrees reluctantly. "Let him work, Thyre."

Thyre reluctantly slides Kaylee back so Rommel can get to the wound.

He gently removes the arrow then uses his healer's staff on the wound. The wound closes under his magic, and Kaylee sighs in relief as the pain fades.

"There you go, little missy. But you really should've told them sooner."

"I know, I know. We heard rumors that you teacher killed intruders, not help them."

"He's very territorial, yes. Doesn't mean his students have to be. Or that he has to know about it."

"Actually, I followed you, sensing that something from my past was coming here." An older man with long, graying-black hair looks over Thyre with odd golden eyes. "You're the spitting image of your grandfather, Manion." He turns to Eya. "And you, little missy, are the spitting image of my daughter, Liela. To think, my daughter's grandchildren would find me after I went into my hermitage, picking only a select few to be my students, killing or altering the memories of the rest to keep my home and its occupants safe." A large elk snorts nearby. "Yes, yes, I know you don't like strangers a bit."

Ignoring the elk, Eya eyes the elder, who must be Rolan, to judge from Rommel's deference to him. "Relative or not, you know our grandparents' names and you ain't killed us yet. Doesn't mean we like you all the sudden."

He chuckles. "Indeed you don't, and don't expect me to trust you either."

"I don't, Rolan. But I owe your student one for healing one of my team, and he trusts you. That's about the only reason you and me ain't fighting yet."

He chuckles. "Indeed, and you're too close to the elk's calf for her liking."

"I heard her." Eya glances at the elk. "My apologies, ma'am. I have no intentions toward you or your lass." She nods to the calf. "She can come to you, or you go to her, if you're meaning to leave the immediate area."

The calf prances over to her mama nervously. Mama elk nuzzles her to reassure her, then nudges her back into the woods. She obeys, knowing she'll be safe there, and the two of them disappear into the woods.

Eya smiles. "She'll grow up strong like her mama. So you protect the animals from hunters, huh."

"Among other things, yes."

"I see. I saw some wyvern nests along the way, too. And Thyre, back away from those rocks before the mama eats you," she adds, hearing her angry growls.

"What's so special about the dumb rocks?" he grumbles, obeying.

"They're not all rocks. Some of them are wyvern eggs."

"Oh..." He backs away immediately. "Nice wyvern, see, I'm backing off, I'm backing off."

Rolan chirrups to her, and she huffs, glaring at Thyre. Rolan glances at Thyre. "A little further. She's very specific about how close she'll let an outsider get to her nest before she eats them. You're only still alive because you didn't know it was a nest."

He backs off a good bit more as one of the eggs starts to hatch. The mama then glares at Rolan. "Alright, we're off. Congratulations on their hatching," Rolan covers quickly, shooing the others back a lot further. "If you'll allow these fellows a few minutes to pack up, we needn't even come back here."

She growls and nuzzles the cracking egg. Rolan glances at the others. "Do it now if you want to keep anything at all from the camp, and make it fast."

They nod and do quickly, keeping an eye on the wyverns watching them. One of the younger teens approaches Thyre, nudging him playfully.

Thyre looks at one of the bigger ones, unsure. "Is it okay?" he asks softly.

The teen's mama rolls her eyes, landing beside the hatchlings' mother, and pushes her son towards Thyre. "She'd be glad if you took him, since you're his and he's yours," Eya and Rolan translate at the same time.

"I'm... his?" Then he sees a mark on the wyvern's leg, matching one on the back and palm of his left hand. "Hey... We've met before, haven't we, fellow. I helped you get back to your mama when you were a hatchling."

The teen nods, holding up the marked leg to where he can reach it easily.

He gently touches their marks together. "There's a good boy."

'We really do need to go now, though, friend. My aunt's starting to lose her patience,' the wyvern teen's voice explains in Thyre's head.

"Ah, gotcha." He picks up his weapons and pack. "I take it she don't like strangers."

'Not a bit.'

"Gotcha. Is this the same aunt that was your age when I returned you, and she tried to eat me because she thought I stole you?"

'Yep. Only now she has her own first eggs to worry about.'

Everyone makes sure they have only their stuff and leave the rocky area, heading back towards Rolan's home. The first-time-mama wyvern nuzzles each of her hatchlings as they poke their heads out of their shells for the first time. They lean into it, resting a moment before going back to squirming out of their shells. "There's my good babies," she murmurs peacefully, relieved to have the strangers gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Janus glances up as he hears a very light tapping on his dungeon door a few days later. "What is it?"

The king slips inside, shutting the door behind him. "It's time for you to disappear, my friend."

"Have the rest been made to disappear yet?"

"Aye. You're the last, my friend. I thought you'd prefer it that way."

"Thank you. But, where should we go?"

"I don't know; nor should I learn, for your sakes-I cannot tell what I do not know. But it would likely be best if you went in different directions, at least for now."

He nods. "Very well. Thank you, my friend."

"My pleasure, old friend. Highest's guidance on your way."

Janus nods and slips out of the cell and towards the emergency exit, keeping to the shadows. The king waits until he's gone, then lets himself out, locking the door behind him. Pausing and slowing his breath every time a guard passes near, he makes slow progress, but is soon outside to the east in the dark forest's night.

"Safe travels, my friends," the king murmurs, then heads back to the stables, where he'd told his guards they could find him. He steps out from behind his large war horse. "Morning, men."

"Morning, m'lord," each guard answers.

"Ready for training?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Let's go, then." He takes them out to the woods to the north to hunt.

Janus meets his men at the stables a few minutes later, and they ride through the woods quickly. Each of his men take off on different paths as they pass them. He looks at his two sons as they take off in separate directions. "Farewell, and may you stay safe."

"And you, Father," Guran and Jarod each answer as they take their paths.

He smiles. "I hope we meet again."

"As do we."

Janus nudges his horse to go a little faster, knowing the adviser's probably discovered their escape by now, and he can make much better time now that he's alone. His stallion, recognizing the stress his master's under, runs as hard and silent as he can with socks over his hooves.

"Good lad," Janus murmurs softly, leaning low over his neck to reduce wind resistance. "To Jarian, lad, as quick as may be done."

He wickers softly and speeds up a bit, now that they're a little further away from the castle. Janus sighs, wishing he knew who exactly had framed him, or who would want him out of the way of whatever was being planned. There had to be a plot here somewhere-something that would hurt his king. That was all he could figure.

His horse starts to gallop, hearing more horses behind them. Janus strokes his neck gently. "Thank you, lad. You can do it."

He whinnies at that, knowing time and speed are of the essence, and pours on his greatest speed.

Janus smiles. "Good lad. I'll make sure you get a nice, long, rest when we get there."

The stallion nods, shooting off into the early dawn.

Kaylee wakes the next morning to an unfamiliar ceiling, the night before a blur of pain and fear.

"How are you feeling?" Thyre asks softly, rising from a chair at the foot of her bed to take her hand.

"N-Not sure. Wh-Where are we?" she whispers, nervous.

"Safe in the rocks."

She relaxes a little. "Wh-What happened last night?"

"What do you remember?"

"Not much. Found... trouble, of some sort, I'm not sure what. Then my side started hurting. I... came back to base... and we ran for the rocks. Then my side started throbbing. I, don't remember what happened, after that. Though it seems we got here fine, apparently. And that a healer found me before I got into too much trouble with whatever was hurting my side. Strange, that, though-usually a run doesn't hurt like that."

"You got hit in the side with an arrow. And yes, we did find a healer for you in time, though only barely, he said. Ran into an old friend, too, and a fellow as claims he's family."

"I see." She stretches. "May I meet the healer?"

"Sure, if you're ready for some breakfast. He's actually a student to the fellow claiming blood ties, but he knew enough to help you. And his teacher double-checked his work when we got back here."

"I see. Who's the old friend, then?"

The wyvern teen pokes his head in the window, glancing at Thyre. Thyre sighs. "That'd be Markab. He and I are linked. He's a wyvern."

"Oh, okay. Hello, Markab. Hope you'll be good to my... my friend, here," she smiles shyly, gripping Thyre's hand tightly.

He smiles softly. "I will."

Kaylee smiles back. "And here I'd thought wyverns don't talk."

"We can speak your language, yes. We just prefer our own, since not many understand it."

"I see. Who's growling at the door?"

"My sister. She doesn't approve of speaking your language. Thinks it a vulgar tongue."

"Hello, lass. I'm sorry I can't speak your language, or understand yours. Why do you think it vulgar?"

She answers, and her brother translates. "Because it's the language used most often by those who hunt us for our scales. They're a vulgar people; she followed them once to rescue a captured egg, and saw how they lived before she torched them and brought the egg back to his mother. She's refused to speak this language ever since."

"You gave those creeps what they deserved, ma'am. Our group love and respect creatures, and would only kill an animal for food or if there was nothing we could do for it. I just wish I knew how to prove it to you."

The wyvern shakes her head, growling again. Markab frowns at her. "Be nice, sis. They're no older than we are; I am not about to translate sailor slang for them."

A little wyvern chirps from next to Kaylee and hugs her leg. "What is it, little one?" Kaylee asks gently.

"She wants you to be hers."

"Where's her mama?" She gently picks her up and pets her.

Markab's sister shoves the door open, snarling at her.

Her little one chirps back, perfectly relaxed.

"Go on kiddo. Your mama obviously doesn't like me," Kaylee soothes, setting her down reluctantly.

The hatchling sets a marked paw on an identical mark on Kaylee's leg. 'I find you 'gain,' she whispers in her Token's mind. 'No mattah what mama say. You mine. Always.'

"Very well."

Her mama relaxes at that, and says to the hatchling in Wyvonic, "She is your Token, isn't she."

The hatchling nods eagerly, answering in kind, "Uh-huh, dad de wowd. Tokie. See ee Tokie f-evah."

"I see. Is she gentle?"

"Uh-huh. See a nicey, Mama."

"Are you sure?" she asks, checking her for injury.

"Vewy. Ee fine, Mama."

"I have to be sure, baby."

She grumbles, but allows her to finish her inspection.

She gently lets her go. "Go play."

The hatchling salutes and pounces on one of her brothers. Her brother giggles and starts wrestling with her. She giggles happily, rolling with him across the floor.


End file.
